


An Exercise In Sensations

by princesskay



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Bottom!Will, But timeline isn't important, Light Bondage, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:29:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5109470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hannibal had led him out to this clearing and blind folded him, Will had expected something a bit different than being left on his knees in the dirt. </p><p>Basically my stab at getting into the fall season since I'm not good at spooky Halloween stuff - outdoor sex! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Exercise In Sensations

The clearing was circular, almost perfect in form. The sky created a ebbing, gray dome overhead, gauzy clouds swathing and blocking the sun which craned to gaze down on the bowed figure kneeling in the dry grass and pine needles below.

Will's hands rested loosely on his knees, leaving the tension to coil in his shoulders and neck. When Hannibal had led him out to this clearing and blind folded him, he'd expected something a bit different than being left on his knees in the dirt.

It was an exercise, Hannibal had claimed. A sharpening of the senses. Will didn't see the point.

Had he not known Hannibal was lurking somewhere along the treeline, the still, crisp air and earthy scent of October leaves may have been calming. There was a light drizzle creeping from the sky, barely visible or tangible against his cheeks, but enough to let him taste the the unfurling death of nature that fall preceded. The moisture and sweat was clammy against his cheeks, cooled by the brisk air.

Will breathed out steadily as leaves crunched off to his left.

“Tell me again what's the point of this?” He asked, turning his chin toward the sound even though he couldn't see Hannibal.

“What do you smell?” Hannibal asked.

His voice was distant, but clear. Will frowned, trying to calculate without his vision how far off Hannibal could be, then growing annoyed by the fact that he might be proving Hannibal's point for him.

“Soil.” Will replied, “Leaves. The smells get stronger when the rain comes.”

“Can you smell me?”

Will scoffed, “I don't have your nose, Hannibal.”

“Our senses become sharper and more aware when we lose the functionality of one.” Hannibal replied, his voice drawing closer, “The blind have a better sense of taste, hearing, feeling. The mute are more observant.”

“You want me to learn how to recognize your scent?” Will asked, his mouth tipping.

“I want you to learn how to recognize many scents.”

“Do you find it useful … when you hunt?” Will asked, slowly.

“I find it useful in day to day life.”

The amusement was pressed clearly into Hannibal's tone, not so much a lie as a version of the truth.

“What about sound?” Hannibal asked, after a pause.

Will licked his lips. He focused, despite being uninterested in this exercise. There were a lot of things he had to deal with living with Hannibal; kneeling in the woods blindfolded was one of the least painful, if that counted for anything.

“There's no wind.” He replied, “Barely a mist. It's quiet, so I can hear the birds singing. Lots of different varieties, all trying to compete against each other. ”

“Good.”

“Leaves rustling. Probably squirrels.”

Will let the silence stretch for a moment before he allowed himself to smile in Hannibal's direction, “I can hear you breathing.”

“This is serious, Will.”

“I'm being serious.”

Hannibal's tongue clicked, “If you can really hear me breathing, I applaud you.”

“You're a loud breather, what can I say?” Will casually threw the remark out and tried not to grin.

If the exercise was doing anything, it was making him more aware of the tension that simmered between them when Will got sarcastic. He didn't have to see Hannibal to know he was testing the limits.

Will jumped when he suddenly felt Hannibal's hand rest heavily on the top of his head. He realized with blushing dismay that he hadn't heard Hannibal's footsteps bring him this close, despite the dozens of twigs and needles beneath his feet.

“Perhaps we should move to feeling.” Hannibal murmured, his fingers lacing softly through Will's curls.

Will bit back a cry as Hannibal's fingers drew tight and pulled his head back, exposing his neck to the chilly mist and an impending gnash of teeth. Hannibal's fingertips traced Will's cheekbone and jaw, working against the grain of facial hair, and finding their place around Will's throat.

“What does that feel like?”

Will drew in a hitching breath, his throat working against the growing pressure of Hannibal's palm. He blinked hard against the blindfold, wishing he could see Hannibal's face, see anything for that matter.

“It feels like a threat.” Will whispered, “Or a promise.”

“Of what?” Hannibal's breath tickled Will's ear.

“Pain … and pleasure.” Will whispered, his fingers curling around his pant legs, “But it feels warm too, like a drug.”

Hannibal's fingers curled tighter around Will's throat, trapping the airflow to his lungs except for a tiny, wheezing space. Will drew in a husky breath. Stars burst across the field of black over his vision, and his head tilted as if wrung through a kaleidoscope.

“What does your body feel like?” Hannibal questioned, shifting closer.

Will could feel the solid pressure of Hannibal's body, huddled just behind him, the nudge of an erection against his spine.

“Pins and needles.” Will mumbled through numbing lips, “Weightless, but still … throbbing.”

“Where does it throb?”

“In ...” Will choked softly against Hannibal's hand, “In my belly, and- … and between my legs.”

“Sharp or dull?”

“Dull, like an ache...”

Will's eyes fluttered, fighting to stay open and alert. His head was fuzzy, feeling little else except for the deprivation oxygen. His lungs burned, but it was a slow, melting fire that came in second to the swelling ache between his thighs. He was keenly aware of the sharp poke of Hannibal's hard cock between his shoulder blades. Briefly, he wondered if Hannibal would fuck into him right here in the woods when he finally passed out from asphyxiation.

Suddenly, Hannibal withdrew his hand and the press of his body departed.

Oxygen came rushing like a gust of wind into Will's lungs. The blood surged unobstructed into the arteries, too fast, making him feel lightheaded for several dizzying moments. Will swayed on his knees, coughing and clutching at his aching throat. Every sense sharpened to a fine point, the wind picking at his hair, the chill of a breeze freezing his nostrils and throat, the warm slide of mist against his cheeks, all of them bombarding him at once. He could feel the blood singing through his veins; he could smell need blending with the autumnal scents.

“Now what do you feel?” Hannibal asked, voice stiff to bind back the urgency.

“Everything.” Will panted. He groped at the grass and pine needles, searching for Hannibal's feet, if they were still anywhere near him, “The cold, chafing wind; the rain warm against my cheeks. I can feel my blood pumping, my lungs taking in air.”

Will paused when his fingers brushed across smooth shoe leather. Hannibal didn't move his foot. His calf was stiff as Will patted his way up to the pant leg and gripped at muscle and skin through the fine material.

For several long moments, there was nothing except for a brief wind and the rustle and crack of the forest. Then, through the sounds of nature, a metallic click interrupted, out of place and rife with suggestion.

Will licked his lips slowly as he reached out to touch Hannibal's other leg. The material grew lax beneath his grip, and he felt his way up, until one set of fingertips brushed against the sharp teeth of an open zipper.

Will drew in a slow breath, dragging cool air and tension into his lungs. The black swatch across his eyes seemed to deepen the harder he tried to image Hannibal standing in front of him, his slacks undone. Did he pull back the material of his boxers? Did he touch himself? Did he let the tepid, fall air caress him?

Will inclined his head, opening his mouth slightly. His nostrils flared as the familiar, rich scent of arousal touched his nostrils. He was close to naked skin; he could feel the raging heat radiating from lushly pumping veins.

Hannibal's fingertips touched against his jaw, igniting a pattern of tingles down his throat and into his chest. Need expanded under his rib cage and snared down into his belly, swarming like a fistful of butterflies. A low whine originated low in his throat. He bent forward, mouth open and searching, but Hannibal's grip anchored him in place.

“Do these sensations matter now?” Hannibal whispered, fingertips gliding across Will's cheekbone, “When you're stripped of your vision, what do you turn to? Are you hard because you can envision me standing in front of you?”

“No.” Will whispered, haltingly, “Because I can feel you.”

“What can you feel?”

“You fingers are soft and rough, all at once.” Will replied, directing his smile up toward Hannibal's face, “I can imagine them touching me all over ...”

“What else?”

“I can feel … you.” Will said, struggling for a moment to explain that simple phrase, “Your presence; it pushes against me like a … a blanket – warm, secure, binding. I can feel how much you want me right now.”

“Can you?”

“I can smell it … musky and sweet in my nostrils.” Will murmured, gripping on tighter to Hannibal's slacks.

He shifted his knees closer until he felt them bump against Hannibal's shoes. His thighs were almost against Will's chest; only Hannibal's hand held his face back from devouring the hard, blushing flesh.

“I want to taste it.” Will said, low and husky.

Hannibal uttered a quiet groan. His fingers splayed wider across Will's cheeks, this time dragging him closer instead of pushing him away. Will stretched his lips open, hungry and eager. Hard, blunt flesh rubbed against his mouth, swiping salty moisture along the inside of his lower lip that made Will's mouth water for more. Will moaned, tilting his head forward to take the swollen head against his tongue. Hannibal shuddered through his whole body, finishing with a steady flex of his cock inside Will's mouth.

Will was unaware of the blindfold now, so focused on the feel of Hannibal's cock filling his mouth that he didn't need the visual to feel the impact of Hannibal's arousal on his own throbbing need. The flesh was thick and heavy against his tongue, veins swelling with every swallow of Will's mouth. It was soft, like velvet stretched across steel, and it tasted like wild need. It was all Will needed to find satisfaction.

Hannibal's ragged panting broke through Will's concentration. The sounds brooked on whimpers, forming softer and higher with every suck of Will's mouth. Will smirked quietly at the thought that Hannibal did breathe very loudly, and he was about to start moaning loudly as well.

Sucking off to the very tip, Will reached up to grab onto the base. The skin was hot and throbbing beneath his touch, flexing hungrily when Will let his lips leave the swollen head completely.

Hannibal's fingers caught in Will's hair, pulling at his jaw to bring his mouth back. Will resisted, squeezing the base of Hannibal's cock similar to the way Hannibal had squeezed his throat.

“What does that feel like?” Will asked, tone rippling with an undercurrent of mockery.

“Like I'm about to come on your face.” Hannibal replied through gritted teeth, flustered.

Will tilted his head forward and swiped his tongue out until it collided with the leaking head. He tasted saline moisture and inflamed skin, a ripple of need through the full veins, pinched off by Will's grip.

“Be serious.” Will murmured.

He let Hannibal's cock slide across his lips and detour to his cheek, where it rubbed into the prickle of stubble. Hannibal gasped in his a breath, his fingers tugging at Will's hair.

“The ...” Hannibal's voice faltered for a moment before picking up strong and determined, “The pain is exquisite, Will. You make me ache like nothing else. It feels like my skin may burst under the pressure, but I'm quite sure it won't – it will just keep aching until the warm, wet clutch of your mouth and the squeeze of your pretty, white throat makes me orgasm.”

Will let his hand slide up the shaft, barely relieving the pressure. It was all he could do to choke back the moan swelling in his throat. His ears rang at the sound of Hannibal's voice, and the finishing touch of the word 'orgasm' was like fire against his groin. His cock bucked against the confines of his boxers and jeans, tender flesh chafing painfully against rigid cotton and denim.

“I don't want you to orgasm in my mouth.” Will murmured, “I want you to fuck me.”

There was a weighted pause. Will could feel Hannibal trying and failing to resist the suggestion.

“Right here?” Hannibal asked after a moment, his voice thick and husky with need.

“Yes. On the ground, in the dirt, like animals.” Will replied, his voice quaking with desire.

“We don't have lube out here.” Hannibal said, though his tone was hasty and taut with frustration.

“I don't care.” Will said, briskly, “I don't care; I want you to fuck me.”

“The sensations may not be agreeable-”

Will reached up and snatched the blindfold from his eyes, uncaring of how Hannibal might react. Sunlight blinded him momentarily, and he squinted hard against it. His eyes watered as they adjusted to the light, letting tiny tears trickle from the corners of his eyes as he gazed up at Hannibal.

“Hannibal, for once, shut up.” Will growled, low in his throat.

He grabbed onto Hannibal's vest and yanked the other man down to the dirt in front of him. Hannibal's eyes widened as he tumbled to the forest floor and caught himself against Will's chest. Their mouths collided, Will's pressing long, eager kisses over Hannibal's empty protests. He kissed and sucked at Hannibal's lips until Hannibal relented his struggling and his lips swollen and red. Will leaned back, observing for the first time since leaving the cabin, Hannibal's deep, brown eyes gazing into his, the indignant flare of his nostrils, and the plump ridges of his bruised mouth. His cheeks were ruddy from cool, autumn breezes and the sweltering burn of arousal. His lips curled in defiance that Will adored.

“You brought me out here, blindfolded.” Will reminded him, “What else was I supposed to think?”

“That we were practicing sharpening your senses, as I clearly stated before we left home.” Hannibal replied, his mouth curving in a dishonest smile.

“Liar.” Will murmured, leaning forward to crush his lips against Hannibal's again.

Hannibal returned the affection, this time grabbing onto Will's body with fierce eagerness. His hands groped at Will's backside, fondling and probing for the crevice despite Will's clothing. Will moaned, snaking his fingers through Hannibal's neatly combed hair and yanking his face down into Will's neck. He was rewarded by the wet swipe of Hannibal's tongue, the scrape of his teeth, and at last, a clamping suck that bruised skin instantly.

Will went with the momentum as Hannibal surged against him, pushing them down to the ground. He could feel the prickle of grass and needles under his back, but his gaze was on the bland, gray sky where a tiny spot of blue peeking through, as if to smile down on them.

Will grinned as Hannibal sat back on his heels, panting, his nice clothes and hair in disarray. Childish as it was, Will drew pleasure greater than anything else out of messing up Hannibal's refined tendencies, disorganizing his impractical, overdressed wardrobe, and ruffling his hair until it stood in all directions. It made Will remember that he was special; no one else would live another night if they tried the same things.

“I left the cabin with pure intentions.” Hannibal remarked as he swiftly discarded his vest and yanked his tie loose from his neck, “You distracted me with you begging lips and hands, you degenerate, naughty boy.”

Will bit at his lower lip as his stomach drew tight with desire.

“What are you going to do to me?” He asked, pressing coy innocence into his voice.

Hannibal's actions were swift and precise as he grabbed Will's arms and looped the silk strip of his tie around the wrists. He snapped the binding tight, rendering Will's hands ineffective and pushing them above Will's head. His gaze didn't deviate from his motions until Will was lying underneath him, bound and submissive.

“I'm going to give you what you asked for – since you were so adamant about it – but in my own time.” Hannibal replied, his hand snagging on Will's belt buckle.

Will pursed his lips, squelching a moan as Hannibal pulled the belt open and drew the zipper of his jeans open. The material fell open, allowing the lump of his cock to show prominently through his boxers.

Hannibal's eyelids grew heavier and his eyes darkened with need. He ran his palm over the rigid form of Will's cock, dragging cotton roughly over the sensitive skin. Will whimpered, his wrists pulling the tie taut.

“You're so hard for me, Will.” Hannibal murmured, slipping his fingertips under the elastic waistband, “Let me see.”

Will urged his hips up, giving an encouraging moan. His cock ached as Hannibal slowly drew the material down, revealing the hard flesh red and aching against his belly.

“Look at you, so eager to be fucked into the dirt like an animal. It's pathetic, Will.” Hannibal ground out, dragging his fingertips down the shaft.

“Please ...” Will gasped, his hips jerking up against the soft touch, “I-I don't care, I just want you.”

Hannibal drew back suddenly, pushing Will's knees to the side and yanking his hips up. Will rolled to his knees, his face inches from the grass, his fingers curling around pine needles and dirt. Hannibal was close behind him, pulling his pants down around his thighs, exposing his ass to the crisp air and an eager touch. His hands spread across Will's ass cheeks, massaging the pale skin and luscious swells.

Will's moan sharpened to a wavering cry that echoed and died in their vast, outdoor arena. Hannibal mouth was swift and warm against his bare cleft, swiping from the tailbone to perineum in one lavish lick before focusing in on the tender, clenched hole. His tongue pressed insistently against the taut entrance, letting saliva stream from his tongue and make a wet mess of the spot. Just as Will began to settle into the sensation, humming in anticipation, Hannibal paused to draw his lips tight around the blossoming pucker, and suckle it in wet, shallow motions. Will moaned, his back arching sharply, his hips twisting away from the torturous sensation. Hannibal's hands flexed tight around Will's hips, dragging Will back against his mouth where he clamped down again on the tender opening.

When at last he relented, Will pressed his forehead against the ground, breathing hard and exhilarated. His skin tingled where Hannibal's mouth had sucked, the skin eager and aching for a deeper touch.

Hannibal's thumb dragged across the swollen, wet hole. He grunted a soft, pleased sound that made a shiver tickle down Will's spine.

“I'm going to open you.” Hannibal murmured, swirling his index finger around the ring of muscle, “You will gape for me as I insert my fingers, aching for something much bigger.”

“Yes ...” Will moaned, hips urging back against Hannibal's touch, “Yes, I want your cock.”

“You'll have it … eventually.” Hannibal murmured, dramatic and self-satisfied.

Will snapped his teeth around a pathetic whine as Hannibal's index finger curved forward, penetrating him. The muscles were tight despite Will's eagerness, clamping tight around Hannibal's finger. Hannibal paused, letting Will's body work tight around his finger and grow accustomed to the sensation before moving it again.

Will moaned, rocking his hips back against the thrust of Hannibal's hand. He didn't want to wait for his body to say yes; his mind was screaming affirmations and he wanted Hannibal inside him now.

Hannibal was steady and methodical, pumping his finger in and out until he could add another. Adding saliva to the pink, stretched hole.

Pressing kisses to the dip of Will's spine and the rise of his backside.

Acting like he didn't even hear Will's profuse, needy moans.

Stretching Will open, twisting and probing to find his depths, and uttering a quiet praise when he discovered Will's swollen prostate.

Will writhed, his arms flexing against the silk restraint of the tie, his hips swaying to and from Hannibal's ministrations. His mind was screaming all sort of expletives and demands, but he knew voicing any number of them would earn him little more than a slap across the backside and a charge to be good or risk not coming at all. And he couldn't risk that; not this time.

Will let out an explosive moan as Hannibal withdrew his fingers, only to press three back into the quivering space. He panted through the brief pain, his hands curling taut into fists, his teeth clenching against a demand. Hannibal's fingers stretched him open, slowly extending to their full length and breadth inside him. With a curve, they reached down to stroke Will's prostate, effectively demolishing any remaining control Will possessed.

“Hannibal, please!” Will burst out, slamming his bound fists into the ground.

Hannibal pumped his fingers in so deep Will's toes curled and his vision temporarily splintered.

“You want me inside you when you're not ready?” Hannibal questioned, giving his fingers a twist.

Will gasped, losing his breath and his ability to speak coherently. His lips sputtered, but only silence came out as Hannibal pumped his fingers in faster and deeper.

“You let me do to you as I know best, and you'll climax so hard you will scream.” Hannibal added, his hand smoothing across Will's hip in an almost soothing manner, “I can promise you that.”

Will panted and sobbed into the crook of his arm. His body was so taut it trembled and ached, but the orgasm barely hinted at the fringes of his mind, torturing him with the promise of pleasure while he continued to endure the waiting and aching. His cock bounced hard and throbbing between his legs, leaking, angry red. When he ducked his head, all he could focus on was the tiny beads of moisture that squeezed from the tip, under just enough pleasure to push him to the peak of arousal but not any farther.

Will broke off into a growl of frustration as Hannibal's fingers slipping from his body, leaving him achingly empty. He swung his gaze over his shoulder to see Hannibal sitting back on his heels, administering saliva to his hard cock. Will bit at his lower lip, his shoulder sitting tense with anticipation. The seconds passed with the throbbing of his cock, until, at last, Hannibal rose to his knees and sidled up behind Will.

The the hot, slick head of Hannibal's cock nudged against his hole, circling the entrance for a few moments before applying pressure to the yielding flesh. Will gasped in a breath as Hannibal thrust softly forward, pushing the swollen head past Will's opening. It sat there for a moment, obstructive and throbbing and just enough to make Will's hole collapse to the pressure.

Hannibal thrust all the way forward, hips smacking against Will's ass in the still, afternoon air. Will's ears buzzed, tuning out the sounds of singing birds and rustling leaves, and locking him a world of pleasure. Hannibal's cock thrusting into him was the focal point, the place everything else flowed from. He moved and moaned at the whim of Hannibal's throbbing member, submitting to the rhythm of his thrusts, and releasing tiny whimpers at every impact.

Hannibal's hands stretched across Will's hips, grasping at lavish, pale skin, and groaning in ecstasy.

“Oh, Will.” He whispered, breathless.

Will moaned in response. The praise sent bursts of pleasure through his blood and nurtured the desire to please Hannibal to his greatest extent. He stretched his arms out before him, putting his bound wrists in full view, and curved his back to meet Hannibal's thrusts to their deepest point.

He cried out as Hannibal's cock slammed against his prostate thrilling the tender spot and sending a wave of sweet, searing pain through his core. He dug his knees into the ground, hissing in a breath through clenched teeth. He kept his body firmly in place as Hannibal's thrusts quickened, evolving to an onslaught of hammering cock and a bruising grip across Will's pale hips. The sensations were overwhelming, ranging from pain to pleasure, from shame to wild excitement, from ignoring the dirt and grass in his face, to feeling like a mindless animal being rutted into the dirt in the heat of passion.

The torrent of feelings didn't add up to anything coherent, but they all combined to send one clear, unwavering signal through his body – need. His mind was swimming with disjointed thoughts, burning desires, so on the edge of pleasure that he wanted to claw his belly open and rip the orgasm from him. He was past arousal, past the high of foreplay, past eager fucking, to the point where his entire being was one, open, raw nerve, throbbing with unrelenting need and aching from the unforgiving pounding of Hannibal's cock.

All movement ceased, and the forest grew suddenly quiet. Will could feel it bubbling up inside his belly, his body instinctively clamping down around Hannibal's cock, so tight they were locked together. With a strangled, almost understated cry, he came untouched, ribbons of hot, milky fluid spurting from the tip and sprinkling the grass. His hips twisted and jerked in tiny, eager motions, purging the violent pleasure and wringing the strength from his body. It was like fire passing through him, touching every part of him, taking him to the pinnacle of satisfaction before departing and leaving him weak like putty.

Will sank down against the grass, gasping in breaths to deprived lungs. His head spun off kilter; the forest was fuzzy and distant around him. His ragged breathing and half-formed moans drowned out all else, and he could focus only on the molten hum of pleasure that vibrated through his powerless body.

His senses emerged suddenly from the haze of orgasm, his body oversensitive, singing, and sharply aware as Hannibal continued to thrust into him. Hannibal's hand crushed Will's cheek to the earth, giving Will an unhindered gaze over his shoulder. Hannibal thrust into him like a stampeding bull, his face scarlet with exertion, his hair wild across his dark, hungry eyes, his nice, silk shirt wrinkled and clinging to his back.

Will gasped as Hannibal withdrew suddenly. He grabbed the back of Will's shirt and forced it up to his shoulder blades as he bent over, fist pumping at his throbbing, leaking cock. Will watched with wide eyes and open mouth as thick, wet release began to spill in earnest bursts from Hannibal's cock, some of it shooting across Will's back, the rest dripping from Hannibal's knuckles onto Will's backside. Hannibal panted and groaned his way through the orgasm, his head tilting back to display the taut tendons and veins bursting from his neck and the sweat dripping down the hollow of his collarbone and disappearing under the top button of his shirt. He growled low in his throat, coming and dripping, for long moments until the violent spasms died down to tiny twists of his hips.

Finished and exhausted, Hannibal sank to the ground next to Will, his pants twisted around his thighs, the hem of his silk shirt riding high on his belly. Will slowly pushed himself up onto his elbows, a smile forming on his lips.

“You came on me.” He said, his tone lilting with amusement.

“It's easier to clean up than coming inside you.” Hannibal groused, “Of course, it all would be much easier to clean up if we had returned to the cabin before becoming … entangled.”

Will leaned over to drop at the corner of Hannibal's mouth, “I know you don't like a mess, but don't tell me you didn't like this.”

“I always like having sex with you.” Hannibal replied, lifting his chin.

“I mean out here, in nature.” Will pressed, his smile growing, “Like animals.”

“We're not animals. We're much more intelligent and-”

“Not when it comes to sex, apparently.” Will chuckled. He suppressed the amusement when Hannibal cast him a narrowed gaze. Smoothing sweat-soaked strands of hair from Hannibal's eyes, he whispered, “I like feral you.”

Hannibal's disapproval melted away, “I suppose I got what I wanted. An exercise in sensations.”

“Mm, I don't know about you, but I prefer these sensations over smelling dead leaves and listening to squirrels scratch.” Will murmured, letting his voice trail off as he pressed a kiss to Hannibal's mouth.

“That was not the point, and you know it.” Hannibal mumbled into the kiss.

“Come on.” Will said, drawing back, “I know you're itching to clean up.”

They picked themselves up off the ground, both hitching their pants up to the waist so they could walk properly back to the cabin. Will held his pants up with one hand and grabbed onto Hannibal's fingers with the other.

Their last presence in the round clearing was a quick, sweet kiss and the crunch of twigs and leaves under their feet. Silence settled, and birds chirped at the disheveled leaves and a discarded blindfold that sat in the middle of the circle. From aluminum gray skies, a steady, cleansing rain began to fall.

 

~the end~

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Tumblr: [relentless-fire](http://relentless-fire.tumblr.com/)


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